WARNING:
EMOTIONAL CONTENT.
Includes young carer struggles, emotional distress, Parkinson's symptoms

At the Weber household, chaos ensued. Irene darted around the kitchen, wiping a damp cloth along every kitchen counter. Her dad was sat in a chair, struggling to do up his shirt buttons.

"Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh!", exclaimed Irene, as she ran around the living room, repositioning cushions and cleaning biscuits crumbs off the dinner table.

"Calm down, love", said her dad. "We've got all the time in the world."

"No we haven't! She's going to be here any minute dad", reminded Irene.

Noticing her dad struggling, Irene hurried over to him. She carefully rested his hands on the chair's arm rests, before reaching up and buttoning her dad's shirt.

"Aw, don't fuss, Monny", said her dad. "I'm fine. Why don't you go up and get dressed?"

"Get dressed?"

Her dad nodded. "I think you look fine, but you're clearly very nervous about your visitor coming so why don't you put your best garb on?"

Irene looked down at her outfit. She had decided to wear her new peach turtleneck and emerald green flared trousers. She styled her hair in a french braid.

"Dad, this is my best garb! I bought all this the other week."

Her dad's eyes widened. "Oh! Oops."

A cheeky grin flashed across her dad's face, and Irene gasped. She grabbed a nearby cushion and tapped it against her dad's shoulder, taking extra care not to use a lot of force.

Her dad laughed. "I'm only messing, Irene! You look lovely."

"Yeah? You think so?", questioned Irene.

"I do. Stop being so nervous, love. Everything's going to be fine."

Deep down, Irene knew her dad was right. If you met them both separately, you wouldn't guess they were related. Irene was one of life's worriers, whereas her dad never fretted about things that were out of his control.

Once, Irene's dad told her the story of when she was born. The pregnancy had been pretty rough, but the labour pains were by far the worst. The car journey to the hospital was awful too. The traffic made things ten times worse. Irene's mum was cursing and screaming, but her dad was as calm as ever. He was laughing, joking and singing along to the radio to try and make her feel better. He knew that the only thing that would make her feel better in that moment was a bowl of warm custard—something she had developed quite a taste for during her pregnancy.

He had already packed a can just in case, and even went as far as getting out of his car and running into a nearby restaurant to look for a can opener—all whilst they were still in traffic!

That was another thing about her dad. He was a smooth talker. He could convince anyone to give him or do anything for him. Apparently her mum used to say he could talk his way out of a locked box.

He was spontaneous and he never let anything get him down. Irene, on the other hand, needed to plan out her whole week.

Sometimes her dad wondered if it was his fault. If he wasn't struggling so much, would Irene need to have her whole week planned out? Her whole life planned out to accommodate him?

"Right, we need to set up some ground rules", said Irene.

"Ground rules?", questioned her dad.

Irene nodded. "No showing off by trying to push your body more than it can take, no cheesy dad jokes and absolutely no showing embarrassing baby photos."

Irene's dad lifted his right hand to his right temple, before sitting up as straight as he was able to, and saluting.

"Sir, yes, Sir!"

The doorbell rang, sending Irene into panic mode.

"That'll be her!"

Irene rushed around the living room one more time, making sure everything looked tidy. Irene's dad pulled a pair of neon yellow sunglasses out of his pocket, before putting them on.

"Dad, where did you get them?"

"I found them when you were sorting the boxes from the store cupboard out", he replied, wiggling his eyebrows. "Do I look cool?"

Irene chuckled. "You actually do a bit, yeah."

The doorbell rang again. Irene debated whether to take the sunglasses off her dad or not, before finally deciding he shouldn't wear them. Irene ran to the door, nerves taking over as she put the key in the keyhole.

The door opened, revealing the guest Irene had been waiting for.

"Hey! Uh, welcome to my house", said Irene.

"Thanks", said Zee.

¤¤¤

Zee remained standing outside. Her hair was straightened, with the front few strands tied together at the back of her head, almost creating an illusion of slightly floppier curtain bangs. She had a mustard yellow top on with khaki coloured high-waisted trousers. Her trainers were black.

"Uh, can I come in?", questioned Zee.

"Oh!", gasped Irene. "Yes, sorry. Of course."

Irene stepped aside so that Zee could enter the house. When she did, Irene quickly locked the door so she could see Zee's reaction to her house. Zee didn't look around as much as Irene thought she would though. In fact, all she did was glance at one of the walls.

"Hello there! I'm George, Irene's incredibly amazing dad", smiled Irene's dad.

Zee gave him a small smile. "Hi, Mr. Weber. I'm Zalim, but everyone just calls me Zee."

Zee held out a small box of chocolates.

"This is for you", said Zee. "To thank you for welcoming me into your home."

Zee's parents hammered into their children the importance of bringing a gift to someone's house the first time you visit. It could be something as small as a box of chocolates, or some jalebi.

"Thank you!", beamed Irene's dad. "That's very nice of you."

"Y-Yeah, you didn't need to", said Irene.

"I'm so glad that Irene's finally brought a friend over", said Irene's dad. "What's she really like in school? Does she run down the halls shouted random history facts at everyone she passes?"

"Dad!", exclaimed Irene.

Zee wasn't quite sure how to react. It's not like she didn't have friends. She spent a lot of time at Aurelia's house. But Zee never told her about her home life. Now, Zee was in the house of a classmate whose life was so similar to her own. Still, Zee couldn't help but keep her guard up.

"Um, could I use your toilet please?", asked Zee.

"Oh! Uh, yeah sure", said Irene. "It's upstairs and to the left."

Following Irene's directions, Zee made her way to the toilet. Zee turned right, stopping abruptly when she saw a door that was wide open. A commode—a chair that concealed a pot for going to the toilet in, was resting against one of the walls.

Zee knew exactly what it was. She had thought about getting one for her parents to make it easier for them to go to the toilet at night. Anything that limited the amount of movement they could do without Zee there was ideal.

Curious about the particular model, Zee walked into the room. She knew she should've asked, but she was embarrassed. Irene might relate to her, but being vulnerable with someone else was still a big step for her. She liked to do things alone for a reason, after all.

"What are you doing, Zee?"

¤¤¤

A thirty minute drive from Irene's neighbourhood, lead to a wealthier neighbourhood. The Ronberg-Chens were holding an important gala to, in their words, 'bridge the gap between their many influential contacts'. In reality, it was just to show off their wealth.

The Brown's were sat at table 278—amongst the guests. They weren't deemed so important that they deserved a seat closer to the makeshift stage, but they were still important enough not to be seated next to the entrance and exit used by the waiting staff.

Elliott was wearing a plum purple tuxedo, with his hair gelled back. A wine glass full of sparkling water was in his hand. His other hand had a diamond encrusted fork in it. He gently tapped it against the table. It was safe to say that Elliott was bored out of his mind. He had attended many events with his family before, but mostly out of duty. He liked spending time with his family, but a part of him wished they could do something fun together.

Mrs Ronberg-Chen approached the table. She had an emerald green gown on, with a silver rhinestone-studded belt around the waist. Her jet black hair was styled into a chignon updo. Ruby red lipstick coated her lips.

"Ah, hello! Oh my, don't you three look handsome?", said Mrs Ronberg-Chen, looking at Elliott and his brothers.

"Hello, Jia! Thank you for inviting us to this gala", said Elliott's father.

"Your dress is simply gorgeous, Jia", said Elliott's mother.

Jia chuckled softly. It sounded real enough, but her facial expression didn't match. Her nose was scrunched up in a way that showed mild disgust.

A lot of the judgy hoity-toity rich people acted fake like that. Well, those are the words some people in Elliott's school used. He did find it to be true though. It was almost as if they couldn't quite believe someone on the same wealth level as them would be genuinely nice to them. It was kind of sad.

"How are the hors d'oeuvres?", asked Jia.

"Delightful", replied Elliott's father. "Mellissa's fit to burst, she just can't get enough of them."

Elliott's mother plastered on a fake smile, laughing along to her husband's jabs at her weight. He wasn't always like that. In fact, being around the Ronberg-Chens always seemed to bring out the worst in him. He despised them, but was also keen to have them on side. Elliott's mother knew this. Some people brought out the worst in her too.

Jia left, leaving Elliott to sit in his boredom once more. He wasn't particularly fond of Jia, but she was still a more welcome guest than the overwhelming boredom that seemed to make it to every one of these events.

Elliott picked up his phone to check if there were any messages from his friends. All he could see were messages in the group chat from Atlas, saying he had found some more decorations for the football rally.

Elliott looked around at the decorations around him. Chandeliers, jeweled ornaments, dazzling fairy lights.

Yeah, these events were worlds apart from his school rallies.

"Get off your phone, Elliott", said his father. "It's rude."

Elliott's brother Jacob leaned closer to him.

"Yeah, you have to be more discreet, Elliott", he said, pointing to his phone on his lap.

Elliott nodded. "Right. I'm just so bored."

"Go talk to people then", said Leon, Elliott's oldest brother. "I had a ten minute brag-athon with Claude Vander."

"Brag-athon?", questioned Elliott's mother.

"Yes, Claude tried to tell me he was better than me because he got high grades in his last test, but I got an even higher score than him, so I had to put him in his place", said Leon.

Leon and Claude had a rivalry almost as old as Elliott. From a young age, they had been pitted against each other for everything, and Leon's ego wouldn't let him put their rivalry to rest.

"Remember that we need to keep the Vanders on side, Leon", said their father. "So let Claude win a few times."

On the dance floor—dubbed the 'mingling' floor by Elliott and his brothers, because no one seemed to actually dance on it, someone caught Elliott's eye.

Sunetra Agrawal. Daughter of Vishal and Muniba Agrawal. The Agrawal's owned a big chain of hotels. They opened their first hotel in Wales, and more recently, Moorside.

Elliott had only seen her at these kind of events twice before. She was the only one on the dance floor that was actually dancing. Sunetra's carefree energy drew Elliott to her. In the limited times he had seen her, she always seemed like she did her own thing. She didn't care what others thought.

Kind of like someone else Elliott knew.

"Ooh, are you checking out Baby Agrawal?", asked Jacob.

"Baby Agrawal?", questioned Elliott.

Jacob nodded. "She's the youngest of like four sisters. She's your age, you know. Why don't you go and talk to her?"

"I don't know", said Elliott.

"Oh come on, you said things with that girl at your school weren't going well. Hanging out and getting a picture with Sunetra's obviously going to make her jealous."

"You think so?"

Jacob nodded. "One hundred percent. Now go!"

Elliott's mother watched as he got up to go and talk to Sunetra, a worried expression on her face.

Elliott looked at Sunetra. She was swaying her hips side to side, a big smile on her face. She was wearing a lilac lehenga. Her hair was black from the roots, fading to a lighter brown ombre effect towards the ends, and was loosely curled.

"Hey", greeted Elliott.

Sunetra smiled warmly. "Hi."

"I noticed you're the only one dancing", said Elliott.

"These things are always so boring", she said, her Welsh accent coming through.

Elliott wasn't sure about the specific accents in each part of Wales, but he knew it as a generic Welsh accent. It wasn't strong enough for it to be hard to understand, but it was still noticeable.

"Yeah, I've been to loads over the years and they never get any better", said Elliott.

Sunetra giggled. "Glad to find someone here that agrees with me. And that they're my age. Wait, how old are you?"

"Sixteen", replied Elliott.

Sunetra smiled. "I'm seventeen."

"You're also very pretty", he complimented.

Sunetra's eyes widened, and a laugh escaped her lips. "Well aren't you charming?"

Sunetra's warm nature took Elliott by surprise. It was rare for Elliott to see someone his age, and someone as wealthy as him, be so nice.

"So, are you just going to stand there looking cute in that tux or are you going to ask me to dance with you?", asked Sunetra.

Elliott blushed. He held his hand out to her.

"You want to show these people how to party?"

Elliott led Sunetra in a simple waltz. He and his brothers received private lessons from a dance instructor since the age of five. Their father thought that knowing how to do ballroom dances would make them more favourable.

Sunetra chuckled as Elliott elegantly twirled her around.

"Ok, ok, slow down Tiny Dancer", she teased. "It's cool that you can dance like this, but I'm looking to have some fun."

"Fun? Waltzing is fun", said Elliott.

Sunetra shook her head. "No", she said, before taking one step back. "This is fun."

Sunetra spun around in circles, her hands outstretched. She let out a squeal of glee, making Elliott look around to see if anyone noticed.

"Try it!", she exclaimed, before grabbing his hands and spinning around with him.

Elliott wasn't sure at first. It wouldn't reflect well on his parents if others saw their son messing around. It felt good though. Sunetra's hands moved along Elliott's arms, pulling him closer to her. The rush felt good. The blood that rushed to his head. The adrenaline that rushed through his body.

The genuine laughter that escaped his lips.

The pair stopped, laughing as they tried to compose themselves. Some older guests were scowling at the pair, but Sunetra just flashed them a cheeky wink.

"Ok, I'll admit—that was a lot more fun than waltzing", said Elliott.

"Hey, that waltz was still pretty good", admitted Sunetra. "But, it felt like more of a romantic dance."

Elliott nodded, confusion setting in when he saw Sunetra smirk.

"And I like to take things slow."

Elliott smiled. He firmly believed in his charm, and this was no exception. Not being successful with Zee had thrown him for a loop for quite some time though, so it was nice to know that he still had it.

Even if Zee didn't want it.

¤¤¤

Irene folded her arms, expecting a response from Zee. The dark haired girl just stood there, like a kid who had been caught eating sweets their parents said they couldn't eat.

Irene saw how Zee's body was facing the commode.

"Were you... checking out the commode?", asked Irene. "You know we have a toilet here right?"

"I know", said Zee. "I just... a commode is quite useful, and my parents...", she said, letting her words trail off.

"Oh", responded Irene, the realisation setting in. "They're good. Not the nicest thing to clean, but it stops my dad from trying to walk all the way over to the bathroom on his own."

"Do you have a lot of stuff like that?", asked Zee. "You know, stuff to help your dad move around?"

Irene exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "Those things cost money, unfortunately. I mean, the local council does offer some services but..."

"You're worried asking them for help will make them think you're not ok on your own?"

Irene nodded. "Yeah."

Zee nodded. "I get that."

The room fell silent. Feeling like she shouldn't be in the room anymore, Zee got up to leave. Irene's sudden movement, and the way she drew her breath made Zee stop. Their eyes met, and Irene hesitated for a brief moment.

"Do you... do you ever think about what happened?", asked Irene.

Zee cocked her head to the side, a confused expression on her face. "What do you mean?"

"Like, my dad... he uh, he lost his job a few years ago. He got ill not long after but, I guess that's where it all started to go wrong. Do you ever think about where it went wrong for your parents? Do you ever wish you could change things?"

Zee wasn't sure what to say. Well, that's not entirely true. She knew what she wanted to say, she just wasn't sure if she should say it. Even to someone as harmless as Irene.

"You don't need to answer. I'm sorry, I was just–"

"I do", answered Zee. "Wish I could change things, I mean. But I guess I don't really know what I'd change."

"What do you mean?"

Zee looked into Irene's eyes. It was just for a few seconds, but it was enough for Zee to work out whether or not she should open up a little more.

"My parents got into a car accident. That's what put them out of work. They get benefits now because they can't work, but uh, even when they healed from their injuries, they never really... did. My dad's always been kind of ill. He has diabetes and just terrible health in general. My mum, she has fibromyalgia. It's basically a condition that makes you feel a lot of pain. It's not the nicest thing to see every day."

"That sounds terrible", said Irene. "I suppose knowing what to reverse is tricky for you."

Zee scoffed. "Why are we talking like we even could reverse things if we wanted to? Your dad's not going to be cured and neither are my parents."

Irene frowned. Zee instantly regretted what she said. She forced herself to make eye contact with Irene again.

"I'm... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"No, I shouldn't have asked such a stupid question."

"It's not stupid", said Zee. "Truth is, I've thought about that question a lot. But the answer doesn't matter because it won't change anything."

Irene sighed. "I wish it did."

Zee nodded. "Me too."

Irene gestured to the commode. "I found it outside someone's house, by the way."

"What, really?"

Irene nodded. "Really good ones can be a bit pricy, and I saw someone on my street had thrown one out. I took it and cleaned it up."

"Smart. I don't think anyone on my street would have an old commode though."

"You might be able to find a cheaper–"

A loud thud and scream startled Irene and Zee.  Irene's eyes widened in fear. She quickly sprinted down the stairs, using so much speed that Zee was sure she'd trip. Zee followed after her.

"Dad!", called out Irene.

Irene's dad was on the floor, his hands shaking as he tried to reach for one of the legs of his chair. Irene rushed over to him, carefully helping him sit up. Zee was hesitant to get involved at first. Her instincts told her to help, but she didn't know if she'd be overstepping if she did.

Irene groaned as she tried to lift her father up. The way she positioned her body told Zee that she was used to doing this, but Zee could tell it was still difficult for her. Zee moved closer and placed an arm around Irene's father's back. The shift in weight made it much easier for Irene, and together, the two girls helped Irene's dad to sit back on the chair.

Her dad's hand tremours stopped. Irene crouched so that her eye-line matched her dad's.

"Are you ok?"

He nodded. "I-I think so."

"What were you trying to do?"

"I just wanted some water."

"I would've gotten it for you, Dad."

"I know, I know. I just didn't want to disturb you two."

"I don't care about that, ok? If you need something... tell me."

Her dad sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry, Ri."

¤¤¤

"Hey, how about a picture?", suggested Sunetra.

Elliott nodded. Sunetra pulled her phone out. She moved closer to Elliott, placing a hand on his back. She leaned into him, and Elliott gladly followed her lead. Their faces lightly touched, making Elliott a little worried that Sunetra would be able to feel him blushing.

"Sunetra!", called out a man. A woman who had almost all of the same facial features as Sunetra, was next to him.

"Baba, I'm just with a friend", said Sunetra.

"A friend? Do you know who that is?", asked her father.

"Uh, Elliott?", she replied.

"Elliott Brown", clarified the woman. "His parents own Brown & Son's, the real estate company."

The shocked expression on Sunetra's face told Elliott that her family weren't his family's biggest fans.

"We don't want you socialising with someone worth less than you", said Sunetra's father.

Elliott's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"Baba!", gasped Sunetra.

"The Brown's shouldn't even be allowed to attend important events such as this", said Sunetra's mother.

Oh.

Big mistake, Mrs. Agrawal.

"Atleast my family know how to treat people", said Elliott. "Plus, I heard about your failing Moorside hotel. Maybe you should take your stuck up attitude back to Wales?"

"Hey, watch it. That's my mum and dad you're talking to", said Sunetra.

"These people have no manners, Sunetra", said her father.

"They come in here with their cheap suits and criticise us?", spat her mother.

Oh h*ll no.

You are not about to disrespect Elliott's family and think he'll just take it.

Elliott saw red. Consumed by anger, he picked up a slice of black forest gateau cake from the buffet table. Not missing a beat, he threw the cake at Sunetra's parents.

"Oh my gosh!", exclaimed Sunetra. "What is wrong with you?"

"You're not even all that", insulted Elliott.

Elliott knew that was a lie. He also knew he shouldn't have said that to Sunetra, but he just wanted to hurt them the way they hurt his family.

And, maybe... maybe rejecting Sunetra made it easier for him to accept that they'd never be able to be anything more than rich kids that were in similar social circles.

He could never have meaningful relationships with these people.

Just professional ones.

"What on Earth is going on here?", questioned Elliott's father.

Elliott's whole family, plus Jia, were behind him. Elliott saw the angry expression on his father's face.

"You Browns are animals!", exclaimed Sunetra's dad.

"Oi!", yelled Jacob.

"Now there's really no need for hostility", said Leon.

Expecting his father to chime in, Elliott was surprised when he turned to face him instead.

"I am appalled by your behaviour, young man", said Elliott's father. "The Agrawal's are a very high profile family that deserve our respect."

Elliott's brothers looked down. They wanted to defend Elliott, and so did his mother, but they all knew better than to make a scene. They had to remain united.

"Apologise to the Agrawals now", demanded his father.

"I... I am sorry", said Elliott.

A smug expression appeared on Mr. and Mrs. Agrawal faces, but Sunetra just stared blankly at Elliott.

"I need some air", said Elliott.

Elliott stood by the kerb, just outside the house. He watched all the cars drive past. Most were expensive, flashy cars, but some were like the ones he was used to seeing near his school.

He sometimes thought that he was living two separate lives. He loved his family, and he loved doing things for his family, but sometimes he wished he didn't have so many responsibilities.

He had seen Spencer and his stepfather at the skate park a few times. They'd just skate around. They didn't have to impress anyone.

Atlas' mother liked to water her front garden every day. Whenever Elliott would walk past he'd see her with Atlas and his siblings. They'd have water fights, or she'd join in when Atlas and his siblings were playing football.

Elliott couldn't remember the last time his family just did something fun together.

"Elliott?", called out his mother.

"Sorry mother, I just needed a minute alone", said Elliott.

"Oh, you don't need to apologise", she said. "A minute out here actually sounds heavenly right now."

"You're not enjoying yourself inside?"

"The Agrawals keep making snide remarks and Jia has definitely made it her mission to bring this little quarrel up at every opportunity", said Elliott's mother.

Elliott frowned. "I'm sorry for causing problems, mother."

Elliott's mother's face softened. She placed a hand on her son's shoulder.

"Sweetheart, you haven't caused any problems", she said. "I actually want to thank you. I know how much you dislike these events, but you still joined us."

"Anything for the family", he said.

His mother sighed. She looked at Elliott for a brief moment, not saying a word. Just as Elliott was about to break the silence, she spoke.

"You know, sometimes I worry about you."

"Me? Why?"

"It's no secret that you idolise your father and brothers. You wish to have a bigger role in the family. I just... I don't want you to forget to live your own life too."

Elliott's mother gently ruffled his hair. She did that often. The only time his father ever touched his hair was to fix strands that had broken free from the gel that coated it.

"You're my baby, and I love you."

Elliott smiled. He had always been particularly close to his mother. He adored his father too, but Elliott and his mother had a bond that seemed like it could never break. They rarely got into arguments, and when they did, neither person could stay mad at the other for long.

"You know, mother... you forgot to mention another person I idolise", said Elliott.

"Who?"

Elliott smiled. "You."

Elliott's mother chuckled. "Thank you, sweetheart."

An ice cream van pulled up nearby. Elliott was confused, because ice cream vans usually play a song as they're pulling up. He looked at the van and immediately noticed it.

Ronan's Ice Cream Van.

It always parked outside the school at four o'clock, and had a sign next to the window that said 'SPEAKER BROKEN—NO SONG.'

Elliott's mother smiled. "Do you want to get some ice cream?"

¤¤¤

"No, no, jail again?", exclaimed Irene's dad, waving his Monopoly 'Jail' card in his hand.

"Ha ha!", yelled Irene. "Off you go, Dad! Meanwhile, I'm... taking over Millford Square!"

Zee threw her arms up. "How are you so good at this?"

"She learned from the master", replied Irene's dad, pointing to himself.

"Yeah, but the master's lost his touch", teased Irene. "The student has taken over."

Irene's dad shook his head, before turning to Zee. "Right, grab a shovel and break me out of jail, Zee! We'll team up and take down Irene together."

Zee chuckled. There was something about Irene's dad that reminded her of her own. His cheesy jokes and his goofy personality made her feel more at home.

Irene's dad leaned just a little closer to Zee, so she picked up on this and leaned in too. He whispered something to Zee, who nodded.

"Uh, what's going on here then?", asked Irene.

Zee cleared her throat and sat up straight, her clasped hands on the table in front of her.

"I've got my lawyer here", said Irene's dad, pointing to Zee. "And she's going to get me out of here."

Irene scoffed. "You can't escape jail!"

"Oh I beg to differ", said Zee.

Irene's dad nodded. "Yeah, Miss uh–"

"Syed", interjected Zee.

"–Syed", repeated Irene's dad. "Well, she's very qualified for the job. She's got a degree from Oxford, Cambridge, and uh, what's that really fancy one in America?"

"Harvard?", suggested Zee.

"Harvard", said Irene's dad.

"What, all three?"

Irene's dad nodded. "Yes! She's just that good."

Irene playfully rolled her eyes. "Well, tough because no lawyer is going to help you now. Especially as I... am about to claim Witherton Street!"

"No!", exclaimed her dad. "You fiend!"

"I swear this game is rigged", said Zee.

"Well, would you be a dear and get this convict a glass of water?", asked Irene's dad.

Irene nodded. "Of course."

Irene's smile was still on her face, but she stood up with urgency, indicating just how clued in she was to her dad's needs. Zee recognised that trait all too well.

Irene's dad turned to Zee.

"Are you having fun?"

Zee nodded. "Yes, Mr. Weber. In a frustrated kind of way."

Irene's dad laughed. "I'm glad."

He looked over his shoulder to check if Irene was in the room. When he heard the tap running, he nodded to himself and turned to face Zee again.

"I just wanted to thank you", he said.

Zee furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "For what?"

"For bringing back my daughter's smile."

His words took Zee by surprise.

"I... I didn't do anything, Mr. Weber", said Zee. "That's all on you. Actually, it's kind of cool how you keep smiling and making sure Irene's happy, in spite of everything."

"Irene didn't ask for any of this", said her dad. "She should be out with her friends and getting into stupid messes. You know, the kind she has to call me to get her out of."

"That's what my mum says too."

Irene's dad smiled. "Parents only ever want the best for their children. And if your parents are anything like me... it's kílling them that they can't get better. Not for themselves. But for you."

¤¤¤

After saying goodbye to the Webers, Zee made her way to Ali's corner shop. Ali's corner shop was a place Zee went to a lot. It was a comfortable distance from her house, and it stocked a few essentials that you could get last minute, like milk. It wasn't very big either, so you didn't waste time searching for products.

Ali nodded his head at Zee when she walked in, and she nodded back—something which had grown to become their greeting. After picking up a bottle of milk, Zee decided to quickly browse the shop to see if they had any ras malai—a sweet dessert her dad loved.

Zee couldn't quite believe her eyes when she saw Elliott in one of the aisles, in a tux. He looked up, his eyes widening when they met with hers.

Zee's appearance took Elliott by surprise. Elliott always thought Zee was pretty, but there was something different about her now. She looked like she was glowing, but Elliott couldn't pinpoint the exact things that had changed.

Whatever it was, Elliott was glad it was there. "Zee? What are you doing here?"

"Getting milk. What are you doing in here? Doesn't your butler normally run errands like this?"

"Hey, I'm not that fancy."

Zee pointed to his attire. "You're wearing a tux to a corner shop."

"Well, I wasn't actually–nevermind. I'm just looking for flowers for my mother."

Zee was taken aback. She didn't expect Elliott to do something so sweet. It also reminded her of all the times she'd get things for her parents.

"She really likes tulips, but I can't find any here", said Elliott.

"Is it for a special occasion?"

Elliott shook his head. "No. I just... wanted to do something nice for my mother, you know? Maybe that sounds lame but, I don't really care."

"It's not lame", said Zee, impressed by Elliott's confidence.

Zee never liked how Elliott always seemed to care about what others thought. He usually came across as cocky as well. However, in this instance, Zee liked that he didn't care if people thought he was weird for wanting to do something for his mother.

"It's kind of like my love language, I guess", said Elliott.

Zee knew exactly what he meant. She felt the same way. When Zee was younger, she and her sister went through a phase of being obsessed with oranges. When their dad found out, he bought so many oranges that they had to get a bigger fruit bowl.

And when Zee said she really liked her mum's biryani, she made it for Zee every day for the next month.

Elliott went to go and pay for the flowers. He settled on a bouquet of roses, seeing as all the others were either plastic or ruined in some way. Before he could go to the counter, Zee put an arm out to stop him.

Zee wasn't quite sure what came over her. Spending time with Irene should've drained her social battery out, but it actually made her feel a little better about opening up. So she decided to help Elliott.

"There are usually some good ones right at the back", said Zee.

The pair knelt down to the bottom shelf, and Zee moved some of the flowers out of the way. Sure enough, bouquets of lillies and tulips were there.

"Wait, how did you know that?", asked Elliott.

Zee shrugged. "Corner shop tricks you pick up. Customers hide the good stuff so they can buy it when they come back with more money."

"Oh", said Elliott, impressed with the trick.

The pair walked to the counter together. Elliott placed the bouquet of tulips on the counter.

"That'll be eight pounds, bro."

Once Zee had paid, she left the shop. Elliott hung back so he could thank her, but by the time he realised she had left the shop, she had already crossed the road and was quite far away.

Elliott smiled to himself.

All things considered, today wasn't that bad after all.

_________

Hi.

This chapter is very close to my heart. I won't go into too much detail, but I am very grateful to have been able to write this chapter, and the Irene & Zee storylines in general. I hope I did it justice.

Irene has become attuned to her father's needs, which makes sense given that she has been caring for him for so long.

I really enjoyed delving into Elliott's home life some more. He is without a doubt the most different from the others, yet he has struggles just like them. Elliott's bond with his mother is really special, and I loved writing their scene.

Zee has finally seen Elliott for who he really is, but not entirely. There is still a lot of manipulation and deception in regards to Elliott, but his more positive traits are starting to shine through. They can both relate to acts of service being their love language. Do you think Zee could be warming to him?

What are your thoughts on this chapter?

starryeyedturtle

DoodleYeet

LeMystical-Puffle

ejsandfarkleslovebot

Tornado-Jockey